Vir Lath Sa'vunin
by Ivory Tides
Summary: We Love One More Day: The story of a young Dalish huntress destined to save Ferelden from the fifth Blight. But her hatred of humans is overpowering and hinders the chances of success. Only with the lessons provided by the dashing assassin Zevran Arainai, will Valina Mahariel be able to overcome to challenges set before her and her companions. -Constantly Updated-
1. Vir Dirthera

Unlike the ravaged forestation around Lothering in result of the Darkspawn invasion, the road outside Redcliffe Village remained remarkably unaffected. The warm rays of the sun sprayed down onto the path and ruthlessly heated the armed group of humanoids that freely descended the trail. Only a few stray trees provided momentary shade from the blinding sun, glinting off from their steel weapons and attire. If a closer inspection were taken, most of Ferelden's population would find the sight of their strange companionship almost fictional.

A bulky tanned male with stark white hair wore heavy plate iron, yet showed no sign of immediate exhaustion, though a layer of sweat skimmed over his forehead. Beside him strode a proud male in typical templar designs, a Redcliffe shield in one arm and a thick shortsword hung along his back securely. Behind them both was an elderly female, grey hair pulled back loosely in a tail and blood red robes loosely hung around her form. She clutched a slim grey staff and seemed to heavily rely on for support, yet her expression revealed nothing but static determination, though the effect of the heat impacted her severely.

Leading the three of them was a slender elf with very dark hair cut sharply at her shoulders. Although the most immediate difference was the fact she wore nothing but form-fitting leathers. Dark fabrics clung to form, contrasting highly to the standard leather skirts and pauldrons rogues or thieves would commonly wear. Instead the vestments curved around all her limbs and midsections and gave her plenty of unrestricted movements. Multiple straps wound itself along her thigh, waist and bicep to house small blades or potions. Though the most prominent of her belongings being two sharpened dalish blades glinting at her waist. Normally they only reached conflicts when cocky bandits viewed them as viable prey on the exposed roads or creatures emerged far enough from the woods to feel threatened by their presence or even driven mad by hunger and taint. But for now things were relatively quiet, not for long.

A slain ox and tipped cart littered the road ahead and a distressed female in commoner robes ran out to meet the party, her waxen hair untidy and her posture frightened. She pointed down the road and shook with fear, "Oh thank the Maker! We need help! They attacked the wagon; please help us! Follow me, I'll take you to them!" She blurted out suddenly before spinning around and running down the remainder of the road and turning a corner.

Alistair gritted his teeth and took a step forward, the plate sidings clinking together as he moved, "We've got to hurry, she's probably rushing back to danger!" Already unsheathing his sword and gripping his shield protectively, jogging after the female.

Quickly at his side was Sten, the Qunari warrior in thick metal armor, and the weight of such encumberment showed in his sluggish run, though he still managed to keep pace with Alistair. Wynne shot a quick look to the raven-haired elf, but breathed inwards in preparation. Starting off after the two men at a slow pace.

The Dalish elf pursed her lips, eyes trained to survey the area. There were minimal footprints and tracks, a fact she found odd considering the typical number required for an ambush. And how could that woman have escaped unharmed? Drawing her blades, and narrowing her eyes, she followed in her group's stead.


	2. Hahren Na Melana Sahlin

"The Grey Wardens die here!" The cry rang through the air like the Chantry's bell, immediately bringing the three into a defensive position against the fifteen odd ambushers that awaited their arrival.

The woman had moved to the center of the attacks, beside a tanned young elf with hair that shun with the sun's warmth. He had a smug grin plastered over his lips and leaned forward in anticipation of battle. The female who had tricked the Wardens' group smiled alongside and lifted her right hand, which erupted in bright flame.

Valina turned the corner swiftly as she heard the cry, the blacks of her armor very visible in the bright of the day.

She did not halt her momentum as she rushed forward, blades held masterfully in her twin grips and footsteps making barely an audible sound against the dirt as she sprinted. "Wynne, take out that mage! Sten, the footsoldiers. Alistair, cut the elf down!"

Immediately the assassin identified this running female as the leader and hesitated at the confidence in her voice. Had she realized this was an ambush before? However, the elven male pushed aside his doubts and found himself dancing away from Alistair's swinging sword.

The templar clad male was slow and sweaty from the heat, and would be dispatched if Zevran could counterstrike between the sides of the armor. The hired men around him weren't blessed with his skills and experience, though.

Wynne focused her energy and disrupted the opposing mage's mana, quickly bringing down a mental barrier and knocking her off her feet. Following up with a spike of arcane magic, instantly ending the young woman's life.

During this time, Sten charged through the line of combatants and gripped his massive two-handed sword. Swinging it like a cleaver and grunting as the small blades of his opponents clung uselessly against his heavy plate. He wasted no time in disposing of the grunts, but barely sidestepped in time to avoid an arrow, instead hearing it slam and clammer to the ground after striking his thick pauldron.

Valina viewed the three archers perched on the bluff and leaped onto a root that jutted out from the side of the cliff-face. She swung her arms around it, careful not drop her blades. Using her lifetime of practice from living in a forest to quickly bring herself to a standing position on the branch. She crouched down before springing up like a feline, vaulting herself at the first archer who had trained his bow on her. The side of her blade cut across his leather chestplate, though she speedily drove the point of her second dagger into his neck. Pulling out and twisting her body around to kick one of the archers over the side of the bluff, slashing at his exposed back as he began to fell. Soon turning to face the remaining bowman, who had already moved to release an arrow at her. Yet she crossed her blades protectively over her form and luckily managed to deflect his fatal attack.

She ended the distance between them instantly and dispatched him expertly with her twin daggers. Breathing heavily as hair clung to her face, looking back down to the battle. Everyone seemed to be fairing well as they finished off the bandits, apart from Alistair.

The templar grunted at the speed of the assassin, as he winced as he felt the elf's blade cut across his right cheek, an hair's width away from causing more than just a minor cut. Zevran chuckled, hardly noticing how easily the others had been slain. His eyes and pride were set on Alistair, knowing that he fit the description of one of the Wardens.

But, where was the oth-.

He looked up at the last possible moment to catch the sight of Valina. The sun behind her form illuminated her body and caused the lavender in her eyes to flare up, before the hilt of her blade struck him over the head and he fell into blackness.


	3. Souver'inan Isala Hamin

"Kill him already. He tried to kill us." Alistair protested, his hand trying to wipe the blood off his cheek, though it only served to spread it onto his cheekbone and lower jaw.

"I want information. He has it." The sound of water dripping onto the dry dirt came after she spoke and then the cooling sensation of a wet cloth pressed itself against the bump on Zevran's head. He groaned in pain, though silently thanked whatever had been placed on him to reduce the numbing heat and the dizzy feeling he felt.

Forcing himself to open his eyes, he suddenly regretted it. The sun's blinding light caused another moan of discomfort, but still he brought himself to a seating position. In front of him was the female elf who had knocked him out, though now she appeared less imposing as before. The dark color of her hair helped discard from of the light's effect on her features, which were shocking stunning up close. She was the epitome of Dalish heritage, beautiful black markings that curved elegantly along her jawline and temples, before disappearing into her hairline. No makeup covered her evenly tanned skin or distracted his eyes from catching full sight of her most attractive quality. Lavender eyes observed the assassin calmly as she pressed the wet cloth testing against the wound once more, before simply placing it into his palm. Stepping back, she stood to her full height; tall for a female and crossed her arms.

"Name." Alistair demanded curtly.

He curled his fingers around the cloth and looked around for his weapons as he spoke, finally spotting them in the hands of the Qunari. "Zevran. - If you're going to interrogate me, I might as well save a beautiful woman like her the trouble." He added smoothly as he cocked his head to Valina, despite his condition, he flashed a flirtatious smile.

Valina remained stoic at the comment and twitched her fingers towards her blade, a subtle movement but it didn't go unnoticed. "There is no need for that, Warden! I work for the Antivan Crows, the finest group of assassins and the most expensive. I was hired by a man named Loghain to kill the remaining Wardens, presumably anyone in your group as well. Why? I wasn't told. Why am I telling you this so easily? Well, I am not faced with many choices and was not paid to keep silent. Presumably, mujer, I want to live!" His Antivan accent resounded heavily as he spoke as he leaked information without pause.

"And before you kill me, allow me to offer a deal. I like living, truly. And will gladly swear an oath to serve you until your quest is accomplished or we perish in battle. My skills will be great use to you. I am assassin, yes. But I will kill people whom you deem deserve such a pleasure as meeting my blade."

Wynne raised a brow towards Valina, "He certainly enjoys talking."

Alistair grumbles miserably and sheaths his blade. "We can't take the assassin with us. What's that saying about our cause? 'Don't worry. If you fail to kill us, we'll recruit you and give you plenty more chances!'."

Zevran raises a brow, his lips curling into a charming smile as he peered between Alistair and Wynne, "I give you my word. And by the look of things, you type aren't exactly picky on who your companions are," His eyes drifted back to Valina, momentarily admiring the female's extensive beauty. "Not that I blame you for wanting to follow una mujer hermosa como ésta."

"Enough." Valina spoke softly.

Zevran blinked. Her voice held gentle qualities to it, but the strength and power of one destined to lead. When she gave the order, the others immediately went silent and looked at her for a decision. They followed an elf? And a Dalish elf at that? He found himself respecting this female without even knowing her name.

"You will come with us. I will not resign myself to killing another elf. But know this; my mercy is only ever given once. Betray it and I will not hesitate." She kept her eyes fixated on his, her face expressionless and hard.

The assassin blinked at the lump that stuck itself in his throat at the normally. Not from the threat, but how it was almost as though lilacs themselves bloomed in the severity of her gaze. Frozen as he stared into them, though it was only for a few seconds before he recovered expertly and shakily rose to his feet.

"It would be my honor, mis alcaide. I give my oath to serve you and do all those things I said a few moments ago."

Valina nodded and offered her hand.

The assassin took it without hesitation and was surprised by her strength as she pulled him to his feet. Sudden dizziness overcame him and found himself falling forward into her, slipping back into unconscious.

"Not again." Zevran grumbled as he fell back into darkness.


	4. In Uthenera Na Revas

Zevran ran his bare palms along the wool sheets beneath him, for a long moment indulging in the small comfort his rest had brought. During the wait for the ambush, he hadn't been able to get a full night's rest, especially considering what he knew the result of the attack would likely be.

Slowly he forced his eyes to open, amber irises peering upwards at the roof of the tent. Tilting his head to the side and looking around, he noticed his armor was removed and neatly placed beside him, along with all his weapons and poisons.

He made a mental note that this group was surprisingly trustworthy.

Biting down on his tongue as he rose and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He moved to his armor and strapped himself in calmly, while looking out through the slim crack at the entrance of the tent. He grunted as he rose to his knees and pulled back his wheat-blonde hair into a tail.

Pulling aside the drape of the tent and exiting proved to induce a small headache as he still felt the remnants of the injury. Gazing out into the camp awarded him with the sight of unfamiliar and familiar faces. Sten, Alistair and Wynne were all gathered by the fire, eating what smelled like boar. Another female was beside them, a beautiful red-head with a chantry amulet around her neck. While on the outskirts of the camp, another human with cropped black hair and strange wildlike clothing brewed her own mixes separately from the others.

And finally the massive mabari warhound that crunched blissfully on one of the boar's bones.

Where was the elf?

Zevran rolled his shoulders back and stepped towards the fire, already allowing his lips to break into a charming smile. Approaching the group and extending a hand in greeting, "Good evening, my fellow companions! Such fine company for campfire dining!"

The group immediately peered up at the assassin warily, yet continued to enjoy their meal.

Alistair bit down happily on the tender meat and gave Zevran only a passing glance. "Least it isn't poisoned, like anything you'd probably give us."

The assassin shrugged his shoulders and took a seat on the log near Leliana and shot a wink her way. "Ah, mi bella. The firelight only adds to your incomprehensible beauty. Might I ask for your name, my dear?"

Leliana offered a warm smile and briefly nodded her head with a faint blush. "I am Leliana. You must be Zevran."

"I am. It is truly a pleasure worthy of the Maker himself."

"You believe in the Maker?"

"Absolutely!"

Alistair scoffed, "Don't listen to him Leliana. He's only interested in taking you to bed."

Gasping, the handsome golden assassin moved an arm over Leliana's shoulders. "And why would I want to do that? Leliana es una chicka muy linda!"

The red-head grimaced, and removed Zevran's arm. "Your accent is strange. Where are you from?"

"The beautiful city of Antiva, mi bella. And judging by your own, I imagine you're from Orlais. Ah, they have the best women there. And men." He added slyly, and looked between Sten and Alistsar with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

"He obviously isn't related to her." Morrigan added dryly as she approached, her scent containing a mixture of herbs and the subtle aura of magic.

"Clearly." Grunted Sten.

Zevran snatched a piece of cooked boar meat and took a testing bite. His eyes scanning Morrigan's form as he did so, admiring the curves and exposed skin her attire left unconcealed. But he instantly got the impression that his flirtatious efforts with this one would be wasted.

"I don't know why Val spared him. She would've killed him if he wasn't an elf." Wynne spoke calmly, the old woman still wearing her Mage robes and resting near the warmth of the flames.

Zevran quirked a brow. Val? He assumed the name belonged to the dark haired elf who'd accepted him into her services. The image of those cold violet eyes soon overpowered his mind and he paused a moment to recover his thoughts. Starting to crane his head around in an attempt to find the mysterious woman. "Where is she? I owe her a proper thanks, I'd imagine."

"She doesn't want-." Leliana began, but watched baffled as Zevran already stood up and began walking away, likely determined to find the other Warden.

"Fool." Snapped the Witch of the Wilds with disdain.


	5. Arla Ven Tu Vir Mahvir

Zevran spent the next hour searching for her.

She was extremely difficult to find. Not to mention how hard it was to look through the dense forest that surrounded the camp's clearing.

He grumbled miserably about missing Antiva each time he nearly fell flat on his face due to the excessive amount of roots. It wasn't until he finally reached a small clearing in a grove of trees. The sight making more sense as he remembered the female's Dalish markings.

She sat in the centre of the circle of grass, eyes closed, hair blowing with the breeze and both her blades later out in front of her. He guessed she was meditating or praying, but couldn't be sure. He found that he didn't wish to more or pull his eyes away from her face. Was this place magic? Had she placed a spell on him? Was this all an illusion?

"You walk through the forest like a shemlen. I would've mistaken you for something more akin to a stone golem."

The assassin flinched as she spoke, shocked at how easily the silence was pierced by the soft flow of her tone. Unlike humans and city elves, Dalish take pride in retaining the strong elegance and grace of their people's origins, thus a reason for why each word she spoke was precise and carefully articulated.

However, Zevran didn't know much on the concept of Dalish elves other than rumor, but already he was tempted to learn more. Stepping out of the growth and smiling brightly. "My apologies, Warden. I only wished to thank you for sparing my life. You are Val? That is a stunning name."

"That isn't my name."

Zevran blinked.

"Oh. I'd heard from the others-."

"Valina. Only those I trust may call me Val."

"Valina is also very beautiful. Is it Dalish?"

"Yes."

"You can call me Zevran."

"If you insist."

"Or Zev."

The female elf remained silent now, inhaling to calm her temper. She slowly opened her eyes, the pair of beautiful violet eyes catching the light of the moon as she looked to him. Her beauty was staggering, as it was with all Dalish elves. Yet her cold, hostile aura left him uneasy and less attracted as he'd originally been.

How could those friendly people choose to follow someone as emotionless as this? Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned back on his heels. Feeling uneasy, the heavily tanned elf bowed his head and turned around silently. Risking a look over his shoulder, catching another glimpse of those intriguing eyes.

Were they passed down from her parents, maybe?

Nodding his farewell and stiffly forcing a smile. He'd have more fun with the beautiful red-head, anyways. Slipping back through the reeds as he departed without another word.

"Zevran," Valina spoke softly, causing Zevran to freeze where he stood. "You're welcome."


	6. Emma Ir Abelas

Humans.

It reeked of them.

Every inch of the camp stank of their wretched odor. She hated them with all her soul. Even though she still trusted these ones with her life. For her entire life, she'd been taught to be distrustful of all shemlen and kill them when the opportunity was present. And look at her situation now.

Separated from her beloved Clan and friends, forced into a war without any choice in the matter and the deciding factor to prevent Ferelden's destruction at the hands of the Darkspawn.

Fire. Why do the shemlen circle around the fire as though it were a pet? Do they not hear the whimpers of the trees as their roots can feel the burning ashes and smell their charred wooden flesh? No. The shemlen have always been deaf to nature, unable to hear its call. Even she had trouble sometimes now, having been forced into the lifestyle she'd been raised to despise with great reason.

After spending another half hour in the cold forest, content to hear nothing but the rattling of leaves and songs of the wind. She emerged into the calm clearing, hearing the sounds of boisterous laughter from her companions. Chief amongst them being Leliana and Wynne, the catalyst for such enjoyment apparently being the feud between Alistair and Zevran. The templar was flushed in the face and Zevran was leaning towards him tauntingly. At least the assassin seemed to be fitting in well.

"Valina, join us!" Alistair called out, albeit desperately. Likely trying to change the current topic.

The elven woman canted her head to them and briefly considered it. She hadn't bothered to speak with any of the others for some time now, apart from Zevran's intrusion. The only time she truly spoke was when asked a question or giving orders before a battle. Why did they consider her their leader? She had been disgusted and insulted at the notion of a Dalish elf forced into leading shemlens into combat.

"Please, Val!" Leliana spoke out with Alistair, a bright smile curled on her lips. "Wynne said she'd show us a trick she learned in her youth!"

The elderly mage managed a proud smile at that, while nodding respectfully to Valina. "I assure you, Warden. It is a harmless taste of magic."

Valina sighed. Walking over to the group with an expression that revealed none of her mingling hatred. She took a seat beside Sten, the Qunari who had earned her respect with his brute strength and simple nature. She had no opinion over the Qun, as it was a topic the Dalish elves knew very little about.

"Now, when young mages come to the Circle, they realize that they have to leave their family behind. So they look for spells to remind them of their former lives and hold faith that one day they will return to their loved ones," Wynne explained, looking down into the fire with a tentative gaze. "It is a simple spell to learn. Simpler to perform. It shows images of one's past and is said to be healthy for one's soul." She then uttered a few words to herself and waved her hand over the fire. In result, the fire began a cyan blue. Azure flames licking at the air with ferocity and relentless heat.

"All you have to do, is place a strand of your hair into the flames!" She folded her hands into her lap.

Morrigan stepped forward, interested in the sapphire fire. She proceeded to pull out a single strand of short black hair and drop it into the center.

Immediately it proceeded to show the group various images of Morrigan's life. Such as her time as a small child growing up in the Wilds, learning magic and Flemeth's strict guidance. When finished, she retreated with a slight smile. "It shows all that one remembers, even if the memory is faint."

Wynne gave a short nod, "Indeed. The spell would be too unpredictable if it allowed one to see things that were never meant to be known."

Alistair was the next to go, and watched with an amazed expression as it projected his life with the Arl, being taken to the Chantry and his training to be a templar.

Next, Leliana. It showed the loss of her mother and how she was raised by the Chantry, until traveling to Ferelden from Orlais. The events seemed to make Leliana both sad and pleased, immediately thanking Wynne for giving her the honor of paying homage to her past.

Zevran didn't wish to participate, stating that the past is behind them and one must always value the future more.

Sten stated that he would not follow the commands of a saarebas.

"I'm not sure what that is, Sten. But I'm sorry you do not wish to participate." Wynne apologized with her gentle tone.

"Val! Why don't you go?" Leliana offered, blinking back a stray tear at the memory of her mother.

The violet-eyed elf raised a brow at the option, the temptation of seeing the faces of her clan mates proving to be more tempting that she'd realized.

"Very well." The others couldn't contain their expressions of surprise.

Rarely did Valina ever participate in anything outside battle strategy, combat or training. She preferred solitude over company. Reaching up to the crown of black hair on her head, she removed a strand and dropped it into the blue flames.

_Her father was the Keeper of her clan and her mother a successful huntress. The fire showed images of them standing side by side, caressing an infant shared in their arms. Already it shifted to the vision of Valina as a toddler, trudging through the forest as if it were as simple as walking down a straight path. Her upbringing was peaceful, as she remembered. And then.._

"No." she whispered, watching in horror as the images began to move. Hauntingly changing to the scene she'd suppressed in the back of her mind. A memory that had been blocked out by her mental state at the time due to the trauma it had caused.

_Fire. _

_So much fire._

_Their encampment was raided by humans. They'd set the forest around them on fire, preventing escape. She was so young. And then the raiders pulled out their bows and shot them from afar. Death everywhere._

"No. No. No!" She echoed aloud, her companions too entranced at the scene unfolding in the flames.

_ An arrow sped towards her and watched in fright as her mother suddenly pulled her aside, nearly dodging the projectile. Her mother handed Valina over to her father, who looked at his wife sadly. Without a word, he turned and sprinted for the flames. _

She heard her mother's screams.

_Extending his spare hand and finding enough remaining magic to extinguish a section of the fire. Rushing through, he tossed his daughter into the brush, hoping the archers hadn't seen._

So much screaming.

_Valina rolled upon impact, elven instincts and natural agility making it easy for her to land safetly. Standing just in time to witness a dozen arrows impact her father's body. The shrieking had not ended. His sad, lavender eyes watching her as he fell to his knees. Mouthing the words 'run'. _

The screams filled her mind.

"NO!" Her fingers tearing at the burning logs and attempting to pull the images apart. She felt no pain as the flames seared her flesh and scarred her, instead continued to dive her hands into the coals in mad fury, sending sparks around to the others and forcing them to stumble back. Only the sensation of strong arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her back gave enough of a message for her to stop.

She hadn't noticed the tears streaming down her face, nor the fact that it had not been her mother's screams she'd been hearing. But her own, ringing through the camp as she screamed in anguish as she stood witness to the atrocity that became her childhood. The others had been trying to soothe Valina as she screamed, telling her that it wasn't real. But it was. It had happened so long ago. She remembered now. It stung her mind.

"Valina, please. Shh, calm down." Zevran ushered soothingly as he held Valina still.

She didn't stop screaming until the assassin grabbed for his canteen of water and splashed it in her face.

"Mamae? Mamae!" Valina cried, the pain from her forearms starting to cause her mind to fall blank at the blinding agony of the burns.

"Wynne! She needs healing!" Zevran called out, his hands on either side of the Warden's face. Thumbs gently moving up and down her cheekbones as he murmured consoling words, trying to calm her still.

The huntress leaned back, eyes rolling back into her head as she fell unconscious.


	7. Vir Samahl La Numin

He wanted to stay with her. He didn't know why.

But a single look at the horrible burns on her arms and hands gave him the urge to steal all the pain away from this woman.

He had watched the flames with mild curiosity at first, but as it continued into the full motion of the tragedy that had befallen Valina as a child, he felt his insides heave. No one deserves to witness the death of their parents and friends in such a brutal manner.

Wynne spent the whole night focusing on healing her injuries. As extensive as they were, Wynne's spirit mending lived up to all expectations placed upon her. While the marks of the burns could still be seen, her skin was once again smooth and relatively unmarred.

"She needs rest now, Zevran." The mage whispered to the assassin, standing with tired motions.

Zevran sighed and rose to his feet as well. "Right. We all need sleep after that."

Exhausted and anxious, he exited the tent alongside Wynne, leaving Valina asleep inside. He imagined the horror on her expression and her pained cries as she witnessed the events in the fire. Watching as she allowed the flames to burn her body, determined to shatter the evidence of what she'd seen. How could she think the spell would not show her that? Had she set up a barrier in her mind to prevent herself from remembering?

"Stupid girl." He muttered under his breath, sliding into his bedroll and peeling off his armor.


End file.
